Singing On Key
by Rissilla
Summary: But that was when everything seemed perfect. There was no Vicious, no syndicate, and there was, definitely, no Julia. It was just Faye and Spike, or the "Spikeperson and Faye Faye Show", as Ed liked to say. SF


The sound of footsteps disappeared into the silent halls of the Bebop. Then for only a moment it was quiet, there was nothing, the ship was noiseless, as if it was a television that was put on mute. But moments later the stillness was interrupted by the sound of the engines of a pink mono racer, the Swordfish II. Before long the purr of the hanger doors leading to outer space was heard, and following that, the blare of thrusters. Finally there was silence, no footsteps, no dogs barking, and no Big Shot theme song, just the sound of the ships engines and the cries of a broken woman in the hall.

"I will not cry for him." She told herself determinedly. Faye Valentine cried for no one, especially not self-centered, assholes, that only thought of himself, and his damn past. "I will never cry for him." She softly spoke as she dropped the gun that she was so "unwavering" was going to shoot the man that 'needed to face his past'.

A single tear ran down her cheek and her hands balled into a fist. "I hate him." She shrieked, down the corridor halls; causing her to go into a fit, like a child in the store with their mother who wouldn't get the toy that the child so desired, she kicked the walls, she threw her arms around, and she stomped her feet.

Stopping in mid-kick to the ships wall; she backed up until her back was on the wall that stood behind her, and she began to cry hysterically. Pressing her back sturdily against the structure behind her; she slid down to the floor, which was just as metal and cold as the walls that were her only company. Pulling her knees to her chest, she tried to cry quietly but it only ended up coming out louder than before. As she cried, she never had noticed that her other crewmate, Jet Black, was standing only a few feet away.

"Faye, you don't hate him." Jet said which caused Faye to jump with surprise and look up at the older man. Sighing Jet carefully and slowly limped over to Faye, his cane making a soft bang song every step. Once he had reached her, Jet leaned on the wall opposing her, and stared at the woman who looked as if her 'husband' had died.

Looking at one of the many metal bolts on the floor, Faye sighed, "Well how would know if I didn't hate him or if I did?" Faye asked, "You weren't standing in my shoes when he told me about his past problems."

Silence once again filled the air between them.

Scratching the top of his head, Jet looked down the hall towards the hanger then to the ceiling where five beautiful gun shot holes awaited to be filled. Sighing he looked at Faye, "No, I wasn't stand in your shoes but it would be hard to fit in them." Jet mange to choke a laugh out of his throat, but only got a death glare from Faye, "But I heard what was said. And no matter what you say because you will never hate Spike Spiegel, no one ever could."

"Vicious…"

"What?" Jet asked confused as hell when Faye said that mans name.

"He hated Spike. So why can't I? I mean he left me….I mean us…." Faye looked away quickly, shocked that she even said that.

"Hmm...Well Faye that proves it." Jet said as he pushed himself off the wall and down the hall way to the hanger.

Staring at Jet questionably Faye asked, "What do you mean by 'that proves it'?" Picking herself off the floor Faye followed Jet. "Well what does it mean!?"

Smiling, Jet spoke, "Faye maybe you said you hate him because after all this time; after everything you and him went through on bounties and the time you two spent together on this ship, you and him developed feels for each other. But those feeling were kept away because you dumbasses thought that the other hated the other, so in the end Spike lost you and Julia, and you lost Spike to Julia, if you understand what I'm saying." Jet continued to walk towards the hanger, but without Faye, who stood dumb struck in the hall.

"Jet?" Closing her eyes, Faye took a deep breath; was Jet right? Did Spike and she have secret feelings for each other? "Do you really think that?"

But Jet never answered her for he was already out of her view and going to the hanger, leaving her by herself once again. Kicking her foot up; Faye turned on her heels and walked to the common room, where that yellow hideous couch awaited her. Walking down the little stair case, she sighed. Sauntering over to the couch, she stared at the imprint that was long and lanky.

"Fuck..." she thought as she felt her eyes beginning to well up with tears. "Don't cry" she told herself, when she finally sat down.

Closing her eyes; she threw her head back and took another deep breath. Sitting here on the couch seemed a little weird; one reason was that she always sat on the stairs because the couch was always taken up by a tall, puffy green hair, ugly blue suit wearing lunkhead. No matter when he was there on that couch after a bounty, during Jet's regular bell peppers and beef without the beef dinners, following one of their arguments, just any time he could he would somehow get that damn couch. The thought of him and the couch brought a smile to her lips; which caused her to open her eyes.

She now just realized how much he truly meant to her….to the crew. Spike brought the amusement to the ship; he kept Jet on his toes, feed Ein some of his bell peppers and beef without the beef time to time, gave Faye someone to sort of relate to, and became a brother like figure to Ed. He was the piece that kept them a family, if it wasn't for him, Faye would have never met Jet, Edward, and Ein, nor would they have met each other. In all he was the one that had made them have a place to call home, a place to go to in a time of need. Even if it was Jet ship; Spike was the captain no matter what Jet said, Spike was the one that told them when and what they would do. He was their support; their life line.

But he had made his choice. He didn't want to hold that responsibility. He didn't want to be a life line anymore, and besides he had his own life to deal with. Well, his past life.

"_It was like I was watching a dream that I could never wake up from."_

"More like a nightmare…" she whispered, as she laid her body on the couch. But before she could even close her eyes; she felt her body fall into an imprint that was made by a lanky cowboy over the years. However; it would soon fade, fade along with the smell of his cologne and cigarettes.

Inhaling the sweet aroma; Faye sighed, no more walking by the shower room, and smelling his scent float into the air outside of the door. No more pretending to accidentally walking in on his while he shaves in front of the mirror, just so she could see him with his shirt off. But then again, after a month of doing that, he began to ask her if she was ever going to shave his five o'clock shadow for him, instead of just watching him. She would always tell him one day she would, but she always just sat on the towel rack that was behind him, and asked him questions, that made her seem like she was a shy freshmen talking the cute senior.

But that was when everything seemed perfect. There was no Vicious, no syndicate, and there was, definitely, no Julia. It was just Faye and Spike, or the "Spike-person and Faye- Faye Show", as Ed liked to say. Clenching her fist, Faye buried her face into the fabric of the old couch. Memories of Spike flashed through her head, the time they met, when he saved her from Vicious, their little arguments, and the times when they just sat quietly and smoked the rest of their cigarettes together. So many times she wanted to grab him by that black tie and kiss him. So many times, she wanted to tell him to forget about Julia. But when she would get his attention, she would lose her voice, and wave her hand, telling him to forget it.

"Stupid Lunkhead…." Faye whispered as she closed her eyes once again, "…why did you make me fall in love with you?"

"Well, Miss Valentine, I had no idea."

Faye's eyes shot open and her body became stiff. Do she just hear….? No, it could have been. He just left. Looking to the time on the com screen, Faye's eyes widen. It was 5:56 am. Spike had left around 8 o'clock. Did she really go through almost 10 hours of thinking about no one and nothing but Spike? Then that means.

Sitting up quickly Faye's eye widen. There stood Spike Spiegel, his body was all bloody and torn but he had his genuine smirk across his lips as if he wanted her to bandage his wounds….again. Standing to her feet; Faye slowly walked over to Spike. Grabbing his right arm, she carefully placed it over her shoulder, and began to lead him to the couch. Her mind was racing with thousands of questions, but her body was doing what she had done so many times before when he would arrive back from a life threatening fight. Laying him down softly; Faye ran to get the first-aid kit and was back in less then a minute, Jet right on her tail. But when Jet saw his young comrade lying on the couch he stopped at the door.

"Oh my God…"

Faye never stopped; she didn't even blink. Her mind was set on saving Spike's life just one more time as she had help do so before. Trying to take off his cloths; Faye realized that if she moved him to much she could open the wounds to even further lengths. Once again, she ran out of the room, but she came back faster then before, this time with a small black carrying bag. Kneeling quickly beside Spike, she opened her bag of girly stuff and pulled out a pair of sharp cooking scissors.

"So you took them." Jet said as Faye began to cut through Spike's trench coat.

Rolling her eyes Faye replied, "Jet, do you really think now is the time to be worrying about a pair of scissors?"

Continuing her work; Faye slowly began to cut through Spike's blue suit jacket, "This is my favorite suit….." Spike said huskily to her.

"I'll get you a new one." Faye replied as she cut through the sleeves. "I promise."

Closing his eyes Spike took in a deep breath of pain, "You liar."

Glaring at his face for a brief second, Faye watched as he began to lose color in his skin. He hadn't planned to come back, she knew he didn't. So how did he get enough strength to fly the Swordfish back to the Bebop?

"Faye..." hearing Spike say her name, she released herself from her self-made trance, and began to continue working on his cloths. "…Faye…"

Not answering him the first time was understandable, but ignoring him the second time was just rude. "Faye." This time he said it harshly. "Look at me."

Slowly but surely, Faye looked up at the half-dead man. She didn't say anything she just remain quiet. His hair was matted with blood, and it seemed that his right eye was covered in blood...as if it was gone. He was dying right in front of her. Spike Spiegel was dying. The thought slowly began to register in her mind. But she ignored it and began to work once again.

"Faye…" He raised his hand to touch her shaky one, "…stop it. You wouldn't be able to save me this time." His voice was harsh, but he spoke that truth. He spoke the truth to damn well lately.

Looking down, Faye slowly removed her hands from his body and laid them on her lap, her grip tightening around the scissors, "Then why did you come back?" Her voice cracked, "Did you think it would be funny to see me rush to save your life one last time?!" Her eyes were clenched shut and her words boomed through the silence. "You never cared for us here. You showed me…us that you didn't care when you walked out that hanger door! You could have forgotten about the syndicate! About Vicious! About…"

Faye stopped herself. It wasn't her place to tell him to forget the woman he loved. It was never her place to begin with. Shaking her head she continued to work, she didn't look up at him, she was afraid to. She didn't want to the see the look of death on his face. She didn't want to see that, she couldn't handle it.

He inhaled harshly, and Faye's head snapped up. She was losing him. He had already lost too much blood. There was truly nothing she could do for him now and he knew it. He had come to the Bebop to tell them himself that he was not going to make it through this one. Pulling away from him, Faye threw the scissors across the room, right by Jets head.

"Hey watch what the hell you are doing!" Jet yelled at her as he walked into the room.

She didn't reply. She just turned her back to the couch, pulled her knees to her chest, and cried. She did what she said she would have never done, she cried for everyone. She cried for Gren, hell even she even cried, for Julia and Vicious. She cried for them all. Even Spike.

Jet Black watched for a second time, the infamous Faye Valentine, take form of a weak shell of a child's soul that night. He watched her dig her nails into her legs, he watched as Spike began to reach out to her, and he seen her flinch at the feel of Spike's cold skin in contact with her warm skin. He watched as Faye's world crashed around her.

Turning to see Spike; Faye went to open her mouth but Spike interrupted her before she could say anything, "Reach into my pocket and pull out my cigs for me would ya?"

She did what she was told.

Jet took this as his cue to leave.

Placing a cancerous stick between his dry lips, Spike smirked up at her, "Thanks."

Shaking as she lite it for him, Faye replied, "You're Welcome."

"Was this my last one?" he asked his voice low and sharp.

Shaking her head 'yes', Faye closed her eyes. She couldn't stand to hear him speak or even see his blood stain the couch. She couldn't do it.

"Here take it." Opening her eyes, Faye saw Spike's arm reached out to him, the cigarette laced in his index and middle finger. "Hurry up. I can't hold my arm like this forever."

Reaching out to take it, Faye's eye widen as Spike's hand grasped around her wrist, and she was pulled onto his blood chest. "Spi…"

"Shut up, Valentine." He coughed, "I just want to sit her with you like this. God knows I'll never have another chance."

Faye gripped onto his blood coat, but she didn't cry she only muttered, "Okay."

"You smell good." He whispered, "Like rain."

She didn't reply.

"Faye?"

She didn't reply. She only looked up at him.

"Sing for me, please."

Tears stung the rims of her eyes as she nodded yes and hummed that 'off key tune'. She hummed even though she couldn't feel his chest moving, or hear his breathing around more. She knew he wanted to feel someone in his arms. Pretend that maybe she was Julia. But she had a feeling that wasn't the case, so she kept humming. She kept humming hoping that he would wake up and inform her that she had always been 'singing on key'.


End file.
